


Nothing So Good For a Man

by nolivingunderstarlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, sex repulsed character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2208579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolivingunderstarlight/pseuds/nolivingunderstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Written for ace/aro August on tumblr. After a history of relationships that ended badly, Dean’s full attention is on his horses and his plans for them. A new client is just more money in his pocket to put into those horses. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing So Good For a Man

Getting back to work on a Monday after a good weekend off – even if technically he had been doing something work related – was always nice. Back to the routine, but with new ideas…

“Winchester, you’re late!” Well, maybe getting back to work on time would have been even nicer, but.

“Can I get out of the car before you rip me a new one?” Dean complained as he got out of the Impala. His boss just shook his head, muttered “idjit” under his breath, and motioned for Dean to follow him into the office. “What’s up?”

“New client for you. Lessons, Wednesdays at four and Saturdays at nine.” Dean made a face.

"Bobby, come on. You know I don’t want any more lessons clients. I got some great ideas from this clinic; I was thinkin’ of doing another makeover-”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you from that, but you gotta make time for this one. We need the board, and I know you could use the money too.” There really was no arguing that point. “‘sides, the horse goes western. Jo’s full up, and Ellen’s got her hands full with those two hunter kids. This one’s yours.”

“Fine, whatever. Where’s the horse at?”

“Stall sixteen. You don’t have to ride the horse between lessons; owner’ll do it, so it’s just the twice a week lessons.”

“Right, right, just want to size him up. Anything else?”

“Your stupid mustang kicked a new hole in his shelter.” Dean sighed.

“I’ll fix it. And get him out for a hard ride today.”

“Good.” Bobby turned back to his computer, slowly entering some new record into the system. Dean left the office, heading for the main barn. Client with a horse in the barn? This was going to be frustrating. Barn people always were. Horses should be outside for the most part.

But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Maybe the horse was a hard keeper, maybe he was recovering from an injury, maybe he was just crazy and needed work. Dean stopped at stall sixteen, looking in at the newest resident of Harvelle-Singer Performance.

Oh, sweet mother of god. Why him.

There was no doubt – this was a half Arabian nutcase of a horse. He was sleek, perfectly groomed, leggy and trim, not a hair out of place. His tail was up in a freaking tail bag. This gelding looked more like a saddleseat pony, not a western horse. Sure, he was a black and white paint – well, maybe pinto, if the other half of his breeding was Saddlebred – but he had that scopey neck and dished face, all the makings of a prissy little show pony. And where there were prissy show ponies, there were stuck up nutjobs of owners.

The horse turned in his stall, looking inquisitively at Dean. Okay, maybe the other half was actual paint. He had a broad enough chest, thick enough legs and big feet… not horrible, anyway. And he wasn’t climbing the walls, so that was a point in his favor.

Dean sighed. Guess he’d find out in two days what this horse and his owner were really made of. For now, a name would be good. The stall card read Angel Wings… no letters, so he probably wasn’t anything too fancy. Hopefully the poor bastard wasn’t called Angel. When you name a horse, you’re deciding how everyone’s going to see them…

Speaking of.  He left the barn and headed down one of the rows of one-horse pens. In the middle of the row, a big dun mustang was trying to widen a hole in the bottom foot of his shelter by chewing on it.

“Monster, what are you doing?” Dean called. The horse’s head shot up, his attention trained on Dean. He tried for the innocent “who, me?” look, but the splinter of plywood hanging out of his lips said otherwise. “Come here, dumbass.” Dean untied his halter from the gate and let himself in. The dun walked out of the shelter, standing politely while Dean put an arm over his neck, then putting his face in the open halter. “I was only gone three days, you asshole. Thanks for making more work for me,” Dean said, almost affectionately.

He led Monster out of the pen, taking him to the tie rail outside the barn, by the tackroom. Monster was a proper horse. Sixteen hands of solid bone and muscle. His thick mane was roached – left alone, Monster liked to rub half it off and put the other half in dreads, so this was just better. And sure, he was toed out in the front and a touch cow-hocked in back, but mustangs never were perfect. A little corrective shoeing and quality work kept him in shape and prevented him from hurting himself.

The other great thing about Monster was that he only had a tiny star, but no other white anywhere. Easy to keep him clean, unlike that prissy half-Arab, with his three solid white legs. Monster was probably better trained too. Dean groomed him quickly, threw on polos and bell boots, then tossed his saddle on.

“Just a quick one today, make sure your head’s in the right place for tomorrow,” Dean told him, bridling him up. Monster was his go-to horse for training. Right now, Dean had two three-year-olds for clients, as well as a young mustang and a three-year-old of his own that were all somewhere in the starting process, on top of the horses in his charge that were better than green broke. He had put a couple of rides on one of the client horses, but everyone else was still learning. Regardless, three days off meant today was going to be a day of groundwork and letting them all blow off some steam. Tomorrow, he’d pony all of them off Monster.

But today, he swung into the saddle and headed for the back pasture. Right now, he was going to just spend some quality time riding Monster. Training horses and new clients and afternoon lessons and shelter repairs could all wait.

Despite being at the barn from seven am to six pm on both Monday and Tuesday, Dean didn’t see Angel Wings’ owner. The gelding hadn’t climbed out of the stall, though, so either the owner was riding him after six, somehow avoiding Dean during the day, or the gelding was actually super sane. And in the meantime, Dean had fixed Monster’s shelter (and lectured Monster about kicking holes in things while doing it), put some more rides on that three-year-old, and gotten a leg over his colt. By the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, Dean was in a good enough mood that he thought he could handle anything.

At 3:45, he headed to the barn to meet this client, and then it occurred to him that Bobby could be trying to set him up. He’d done that before, subtly, and it was never good. Hopefully that was not the case today. In the barn, Angel Wings was tacked up in the crossties. He had those fancy, expensive medicine boots on all four feet, along with bell boots, and if that wasn’t bad enough, apparently his owner’s idea of a casual saddle was a super nice, maybe custom made, tan leather creation. Paired with the teal boots and teal blanket… this had to be a teenage girl’s horse, the way the color sat.

Well, here goes anyway. Dean walked over to the gelding, who watched him curiously. He offered the horse the back of his hand, and when the gelding bumped his hand with his nose, Dean smoothly stroked the horse down the center of his face with his knuckles.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Winchester,” a deep voice said as someone emerged from the tackroom. Okay, not a teenage girl. The voice belonged to a tall man, about Dean’s age, with dark hair and stunning blue eyes. Of course, he had perfectly pressed jeans and a button down shirt on, nice boots, and the bridle over his shoulder perfectly matched his saddle. “Castiel Novak,” he added, offering a gloved hand to Dean.

“Please, call me Dean,” he said, shaking the man’s hand quickly. “So, why don’t you give me a little background on you two and tell me what your goals are.”

“I purchased Wings a year ago, as a three year old in training. My trainer at the time assured me that he would excel in whatever direction I chose, but it quickly became apparent that that was not quite the case. I have switched trainers twice since then, but one trainer thought I should give up on western and make him a hunter, while another told me he’d never be show quality. I’ve heard very good things about the training program here and hoped this would be a good fit for us.

“I would like to show Wings in the half-Arabian reining, if at all possible. But more generally, I would like to learn to work with him better. It feels like we’ve both been turned around a few times and we don’t click the way I had hoped we would.” Dean nodded thoughtfully and stepped aside to look at Wings’ profile (and thank god the horse wasn’t named Angel).

“He’s a little flat over the croup for a reiner, but until I see what he can do, I wouldn’t rule anything out.” Castiel looked hopeful at that. “I’d like to see where you two are at. Just… do your usual thing, and I’ll watch.”

“Excellent.” Castiel picked up a lunge line and lunge whip, put on his helmet, and bridled Wings. They headed into the indoor arena, where he proceeded to go through a fairly standard warm up on the lunge line. Dean noticed a few things immediately. Wings didn’t need the whip, but Castiel seemed to need it for confidence. Wings also really didn’t appear to need this kind of warm up; he was calm, quiet, and responsive from the get-go. Castiel decided Wings was ready after a ten minute lunge (which was about nine minutes more than he needed, Dean thought) and finally mounted up.

And there were all the problems. Dean leaned on the rail, watching the two of them work, and wondering what on earth he had been gotten into. He didn’t even let them get into a lope; just walking and trotting around was enough to have an idea where to go. Dean ducked through the fence and walked to the center of the arena, motioning for Castiel to come over.

“How long have you been riding?” Dean asked.

“I rode throughout my youth, but took some time off during college. I began riding again about five years ago.”

“Hunter?”

“Yes, primarily.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Why do you want to go into reining?”

“It looks thrilling. And quite honestly, I wanted a change of pace. I wanted to do something new.”

“Awesome. Hate to tell you, but in order to do something new, you gotta stop riding him like he’s a hunter.” Dean looked up at Castiel, who just blinked curiously and tilted his head to one side. “Do you mind if I make a few changes and hop on him, see what kind of potential he’s got?”

“Of course not – I would very much like for you to train both of us.” Castiel dismounted, standing right next to Dean. Which was good, because now Dean could size him up: Castiel was about an inch shorter, which he’d take into consideration when readjusting the stirrups. It was also less good, because that gave Dean a brief close-up of his frankly gorgeous face and-

Not even finishing that thought, nope. This was business. Dean took the reins and unbuckled them. He slid them out of the martingale, then unfastened that and took it off.

“Here, can you run this back to the tack room and grab a set of split reins off the back wall?” Castiel nodded, taking the martingale and leaving the arena. And Dean decidedly did not watch him go because that would be unprofessional. He busied himself with measuring and dropping the stirrups, checking that they were both even. Castiel returned with the lightest tan set of reins, which was just fine by Dean; if everything had to match, that was Castiel’s deal. He pulled out his pocket knife and unscrewed the reins from the bit, one at a time, replacing them with the split reins.

“Here,” he said, handing the old reins to Castiel. Then he pulled the reins around Wings’ neck and mounted up. This was not his usual mustang or quarter horse, but he respected the bit and moved off Dean’s legs well enough, so he might be something good. Given some rein, he reached out and carried himself a little better, so Dean went ahead and put him through his paces. Wings was a nice mover, but could he stop?

He didn’t expect the horse to slide, not without training or proper shoes, but when Dean asked him to collect and stop, he tucked his butt underneath himself and stopped beautifully, for a young horse at least. Impressed, Dean opened his shoulder and asked him to turn on his haunches, and Wings responded willingly. With a grin, Dean rode back to Castiel and dismounted. The man seemed a bit in awe of what he’d just watched his horse do.

“He’s got potential, that’s for sure. But like you said, you’ve both been turned around a few times. He’s not going in any clear direction, so we need to point him to reining. You still think you’re a hunter, so we need to teach you how to rein too. But I don’t see any reason why you both can’t pick it up,” Dean said, handing the reins back to Castiel.

“Thank you!” Castiel’s smile lit up his whole face, and damn if that wasn’t just gorgeous. Dean couldn’t help an answering smile. “So, should I get back on…?”

“Yeah, we can do a little… why don’t you get on and you can get a feel for the split reins and working without that martingale changing your pressure.” Castiel went to adjust the stirrups, but Dean stopped him. “Nah, you gotta ride with them longer. You’re not a hunter any more. Get on and you can walk some circles around me to get used to it.”

“Oh. All right.” Castiel mounted up slightly awkwardly, automatically going to gather up the reins. Dean put a hand over his, shaking his head.

“Just walk him on a loose rein. Relax and feel him out.” Castiel looked like he was going to argue, so Dean put on his “I’m the trainer, you do what I say” face. Castiel thought better of it and clicked to Wings, walking off.

The pair looked better already. Well, Wings did, anyway. He was completely relaxed and soft, despite Castiel looking rather out of place and unsure. That was going to take more work than Dean could do in the remaining time today. But for now… he had Castiel work with Wings on bending and doing some turns on the haunches, just keeping things slow and easy.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” Dean said at the hour mark. “Keep the split reins, and just work with him on being relaxed and soft until next lesson.”

“I will. Thank you.” Castiel halted Wings and dismounted, giving the horse a very stereotypical and almost rehearsed pat on the neck. Dean ducked through the fence, leaving Castiel to take care of his own horse.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Dean had a plan. He walked into the barn right at 9 and found Castiel standing in the crossties, holding Wings’ reins. No martingale in sight, split reins still on, stirrups where Dean had put them – maybe this guy really was going to turn out alright. He seemed confused by the horse Dean was leading, which made Dean grin.

“Morning. I was thinking, it’s hard to teach you what you need to do on a horse that doesn’t know how to do it yet. So today, I’m gonna ride Wings and teach him some stuff, and you’re gonna ride Red and let her teach you.” Dean patted the short, broad chestnut mare on the neck and calmly switched reins with Castiel. He sized up Red, and Dean was half afraid an insult was going to come out.

“Accurately named,” he deadpanned. Dean laughed.

“No other way to name a horse.” He led Wings into the arena, Castiel and Red behind them. As they both prepared to mount, Castiel stopped and looked at Dean.

“Are you not planning to lunge him first?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

“Does he need to be lunged first? Is he going to explode when I get on him?” he countered, swinging into the saddle. Castiel frowned, like the thought had never occurred to him.

“Well, no, I suppose not…” he answered doubtfully. Dean gathered up a little rein, asking Wings to give to each side.

“Look, I hate when people waste their time on the ground with a horse that doesn’t need it. If your horse is uncontrollable when you first get on, you don’t need to lunge them to take the edge off – you need to train them better. Sure, there’s cases where you should lunge a horse first – green broke horses, horses coming off stall rest, maybe when you’re in an unfamiliar place – but Wings doesn’t have any of that. He’s quiet, he’s responsive. He needs to just get going.”

“Oh.” Castiel frowned about that, thinking perhaps a little too hard, so Dean started warming Wings up. Castiel eventually got on Red, and then he seemed a little lost.

“Just warm her up a bit. Don’t ask for anything hard. Start simple, see how she feels different from Wings,” Dean instructed. He was doing much the same with Wings, testing to see what he knew already so he had an idea where to start. Castiel was hesitant to ask too much of Red, and when he was finally ready to ask her to lope, he gathered up the reins and she started shaking her head in displeasure.

“Just cause she’s got a snaffle on doesn’t mean you have to take a hold of her face,” Dean called. “Let her have her head and ask her up.” Castiel’s frown seemed permanent, but he did as Dean said and Red slid right up into a smooth, laid back lope. That earned a smile from Castiel.

A few minutes later, Dean called Castiel in for the actual lesson. He demonstrated how to teach Wings something, then had Castiel imitate it on Red, since she responded correctly each time. Castiel seemed surprised both by Red’s willingness and by how fast Wings was picking new skills up with Dean.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. Keep working on all that with him, but don’t overdo it. Always quit while you’re ahead.” Dean hopped off Wings, trading horses again once Castiel was on the ground too.

“I will. Thank you.” Dean threw him a small salute and a grin, leading Red away. He walked her past Bobby, who was taking inventory in the feed room.

“What’cha got old Red out for?” he asked gruffly.

“Teaching, Bobby. She knows her shit.”

“Damn right she does. I don’t teach it for them to forget it.” Dean grinned and kept going.

A month of lessons went by surprisingly quickly. Wings was a quick learner, only limited by his lack of sliding shoes (for now) and his rider’s ability. And even that was not a huge limit, as Castiel was picking things up. However, when frustrated or confused, he automatically went back to old habits. One Saturday morning, early in their lesson, Castiel was struggling to halt Wings from the trot without gathering up his reins. Every time he tried to take a hold of Wings’ face, Dean would correct him, and he would get tenser and struggle even more.

“Okay, okay, stop,” Dean called, sighing. He needed to do something to loosen Castiel up- idea. “Unsaddle him, leave his boots and bridle on, lose the riding gloves, meet me by the outdoor arena when you’re done.” Dean jogged out of the arena, ignoring Castiel’s confused questions. He quickly brushed Monster, picked his feet, threw wraps on him, and bridled him up. When he dragged Monster out to the arena, Castiel looked even more baffled.

“D’you need a leg up?” Dean asked, grinning. Castiel paled. “What, haven’t ridden bareback before?”

“I have, when I was younger… but Wings has never…”

“First time for everything!” Dean said cheerfully. “Funny thing about horses. Sometimes you just gotta do something and assume it’ll be alright, otherwise it’ll never get done. He’s warmed up, he’s smart, you’ll be fine.”

“If… if you say so,” Castiel said, putting the reins around Wings’ neck. “I suppose I will take that leg up now.” Dean dropped Monster’s rein, telling the horse to “stand,” and moved in behind Castiel. He took Castiel’s bent leg, mind entirely on business that’s for sure, and on the count of three, boosted Castiel up onto Wings. The gelding’s head came up, but he didn’t look bothered – just curious.

Dean went back to Monster, who had picked up the dropped rein and started chewing on it. He rolled his eyes, yanked the leather out of the gelding’s mouth, tossed it over his neck, and vaulted onto his back. He could practically feel Castiel’s eyes on him the whole time, but that was just curiosity and a bit of apprehension, right?

“Alright, come with me,” Dean said, steering Monster around the arena. He could hear Wings’ slightly quick hoofbeats behind him.

“We’re not going in the arena?” Castiel asked, his voice half an octave higher.

“Nope.” Dean set his reins down and twisted to look back at Castiel. “You need to relax. We’re going out.” He turned back to the front, directing Monster to the gate of an open field. He easily bent down and opened the gate, then maneuvered Monster through and out of the way so Castiel and Wings could come through before pushing the gate shut. He spun Monster around and walked out into the open, Castiel and Wings sticking close to their side.

“I know this is gonna sound harsh, but you gotta hear it,” Dean began. “You keep locking up on him when you get a little lost, or when he doesn’t pick things up right away. Look, you both are gonna make mistakes. That’s okay. But every time you lock up, you go back to your old habits, and then you confuse the shit out of him, and it keeps getting worse. You get tense, he gets tense, no one gets anything done.

“You gotta relax and let him tell you what’s up. He can’t help but tell you how he feels. So we’re just gonna walk the field. Put your reins down, put your hands on his shoulders, and just relax. Feel him move.” Dean snuck a glance at Castiel, who was dutifully trying to do what Dean said. But he was still thinking too hard about it. New strategy. “Why’d you start riding?”

“…what?”

“Y’know, when you were a kid. What made you start riding?” Castiel frowned, staring over Wings’ head at the horizon.

“My father believed that I needed to take up some kind of sport, but my hand-eye coordination is less than optimal. We went to the nearby stables and I became enamored with the idea of riding. I think my father thought I would be learning to be a rodeo cowboy, but instead, I learned hunter pleasure on Arabians and half-Arabians. And I was good at it.” A small smile graced his face, but it was enough to tell Dean he was on the right track. “I used to show on the school horses, just locally. I could have competed seriously had I owned a horse, but as I got into high school, my father became less supportive and wanted me to focus on academics and getting into a good college. And in college, I didn’t have the time nor the money to ride.”

“Gotcha. So, why pick it up again?”

“Riding was always the best part of my day, when I could. I have a good job, a solid life… but it was missing something. I wanted to get back to that… joy.”

“That’s good. Y’know, you’ve been pushing yourself – and Wings – a little hard.” Now Dean looked at the horizon, which was currently the top of a gentle hill they were climbing. He could feel Castiel’s eyes on him. “The joy of horses isn’t the competitions or the winning or even just getting the patterns down. It’s this, here. Trusting them to take you where you want to go, knowing that they’ll respect you, borrowing their legs to give you freedom.” When they reached the top of the hill, Dean said “Whoa” and Monster stopped immediately. Castiel and Wings ended up stopped two steps ahead of them.

“This is what it’s about. Freedom… and partnership.” Dean nodded, looking over at Castiel; surprisingly, the other man was staring right back at him. “You gotta loosen up and enjoy these simple things.” Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but Dean interrupted. “You didn’t pick up your reins to stop him, did you?” he observed.

“…no.” Castiel looked down at Wings’ withers, where the reins were laying, untouched. His hands were still on the horse’s shoulder blades. “No. I… he… we’re…” He looked back to Dean, that gorgeous smile lighting up his face. “I just thought it and sat back.”

“And he did what he’s trained to do, cause you asked nicely and calmly.” Dean grinned. “You gotta put your trust in him and trust yourself… just relax and work together.”

“I think I understand,” Castiel replied, practically beaming. They stood up there a moment, enjoying the revelation and the scenery – the wide open spaces, broken by the odd wire fence, a herd of cattle in one pasture, some alfalfa growing in another field, the quiet noises of prairie wildlife… “Can we- Do you have another lesson to get back for?”

“Nah. Nothing till this afternoon. You wanna walk for a while?”

“I would like that very much.” Dean grinned and clicked to Monster. Castiel and Wings fell in beside them. “If you don’t mind my asking… how did you begin riding?”

“Here, actually. My parents were good friends of Bobby and Ellen. We used to come hang out all the time, and me and Jo and Sammy - my brother – we’d go out riding on old broke horses while our parents talked. And I loved it, started coming out and working after school cleaning stalls and shit for lessons. Eventually, Bobby started teaching me to train, then he gave me a horse to start, and I just went up from there.”

“Do you only ride western?”

“Nah,” Dean laughed. “Ellen made me learn English too. I just like western better. And I look better in a western saddle.”

“I see.” A small grin slid onto Castiel’s face as he gave Dean a once over.

“Cas- can I call you Cas?” Dean looked over at him again, curious. “It’d be a bit easier to yell across the arena than Castiel.”

“Cas is fine,” came the answer, with a hint of surprise and something a little warm in his voice.

“Cool. So. Cas, how often do you come out and ride?”

“I try to be here five days a week, work permitting.”

“Four days of work, one day to relax. New riding schedule for you,” Dean said. “Take him out here, ride down the road, play in the outdoor arena over some ground poles or with that giant ball of Jo’s. Give him and you a day to just do fun shit together.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” They both fell into silence, listening to the sound of the horses’ legs through the tall grass.

“The farrier is coming in a week and a half to start with sliding shoes,” Cas said suddenly. “Can I still take him out here?”

“Play it by ear… he won’t have traction in the back, and you’ll want to use bell boots to keep him from stepping out of ‘em, but if you’re careful…” Dean shrugged.

“Why do you have Monster in bell boots?”

“Same reason, keep him from pulling his shoes… also, keep him from stepping on himself. He’s built weird.”

“Really?” Cas looked down at Monster’s legs curiously, trying to judge them as they walked. “I thought mustangs didn’t need shoes.”

“Not usually… Depends on their work load and shit. In his case, they’re corrective shoes. He’s toed out from the knee down, always clips himself. And he’s short backed and long legged, so he’ll step on his front feet with his back feet, if he doesn’t hit his hocks together. Basically, he’s a fucking mess and I do my best with the shoes and boots to keep him from tearing his own legs off.” Dean chuckled.

“That seems like a lot of effort to go to…” Cas trailed off at a slightly withering look from Dean.

“What, for a mustang? Don’t diss my horse. Fancy bloodlines don’t mean shit. What matters is a horse’s will to work. Monster’s built like a tank, and once I got him going, he turned out to have a level head. I can hop on him without any tack, take him out without a problem. I can pony wild mustangs and jumpy yearlings off him and he doesn’t flinch. I can take him out to help with brandings, I can take him to shows if I want, and he’ll do anything.

“So what if his legs are slapped together funny? So what if he rubs his mane off? So what if he breaks everything he touches if I leave him alone with it long enough? Monster’s a good fucking horse, and I’ll do what it takes to keep him sound.”

“I understand. I apologize for my insensitive remark,” Cas said, subdued by Dean’s outburst. “He does seem like a remarkable horse.”

“Damn right he is.” Dean ruffled Monster’s mane.

“Did you start him?”

“Yup. Got him two years ago, completely untouched. Took a while to get him turned around, but he came out great.”

"Do you often start mustangs?”

“Yeah, I’m actually looking to get another one, do a mustang makeover or something soon.”

“That is quite impressive.” Dean just shrugged the compliment off.

“I do what I can.” He looked ahead and picked up Monster’s reins. “Come on, I’ll race you to that pole,” he said, pointing to the single large wooden pole in the fenceline, some distance away. Castiel gathered up his reins as well, but for once, he didn’t look nervous.

“All right.”

“I’ll even be nice, give you a head start.” Dean grinned. Cas looked at him warily, then asked Wings up to a trot, then a lope. Dean watched them for a minute, impressed with how much more relaxed both horse and rider looked already. Good. Dean kissed to Monster, the cue for him to go into a lope, and as soon as he jumped up, Dean pushed his hands forward and encouraged him with his calves. Monster accelerated eagerly, the ground flying by underneath him. They blew past Cas and Wings in a matter of seconds, and Dean glanced back over his shoulder for a second. Surprisingly, Cas had given Wings his head and was actually chasing them.

What a morning already. Dean let out a wild yell, letting Monster keep on running, till they galloped past the pole. He sat back, chuckling and easing Monster down to a stop. Cas and Wings loped past them several seconds later, not exactly tearing up the ground, but judging by the laughter, they were having a grand time. Dean grinned and sent Monster to catch up, easily matching Wings’ pace.

“Having fun?” Dean called. Cas glanced over at him quickly, his face glowing with that gorgeous grin.

“Yes! I haven’t had this much fun in years!” he answered, laughing. They were rapidly approaching the corner of the field, so they both eased their horses back to a walk, letting them relax and breathe again as they turned and walked the new fenceline.

“I think that’s your problem,” Dean said, apparently out of nowhere.

“What’s my problem?”

“You forgot how to have fun riding. You got all turned around trying to reach some goal, you forgot why you ride. And you went to those trainers and rather than telling you the truth – that it’s your head that’s the problem, not him – those trainers made you doubt Wings. Look at how far you’ve come in a month. He’s not the problem, and now, neither are you.”

“I appreciate your honesty. And your patience, and commitment to, ah… ‘fixing the problem,’” Cas said. “When did you realize…” he trailed off, not quite sure how he wanted to finish that sentence.

“Day one, dude.” Cas blinked in surprise. “It was really clear on day two, I was just working on getting you through it. This seems to have done the trick.”

“I would be inclined to agree.” Cas smiled, a bit sheepish, and if that made Dean smile too, well, it was just because happiness is contagious. “So, what other horses do you own currently?” he asked, starting Dean on a long, largely one-sided conversation about the horses he was currently training, which somehow segued into sharing stories about horses Dean used to train, which led to Cas telling stories about his old lesson horses. By the time they got back to the gate, they were laughing and talking like old friends.

“Well, I gotta ditch out on you, train some horses before afternoon lessons… so I’ll see you Wednesday.” Dean flashed a grin at Cas, pointing Monster towards his shelter.

“Of course. And Dean?” Cas waited till Dean had stopped and looked back. “Thank you for everything today.”

“Sure thing. It’s what I do.” He rode away, not thinking about the fact that he didn’t normally get quite so buddy-buddy with his clients, or come away from a trail ride with the strong urge to go out there again, or- No. Doesn’t matter. Smarty needed a good ride today because her owner was coming out on Monday to see her progress. That was what he needed to focus on.

Wednesday’s lesson was the best one yet. Cas was completely relaxed, and the change it brought about in Wings was remarkable. At the end of the lesson, Dean called Cas in and, when he stopped, went over to lean on Wings’ shoulder.

“Dude, it’s a good thing he’s getting sliders next week. You’re gonna need them.” Cas’ face lit up with a grin, his eyes practically shining (and if asked, Dean would deny noticing that).

“Really?!”

“No, you suck and he’ll never rein- yes really! Seriously, you guys looked great today. We’ll just keep on working, and once he gets sliders, we can up the intensity a bit.”

“This is fantastic!” Still beaming, Cas dismounted and Dean moved away. “Unfortunately, the only time the farrier had for me was Wednesday afternoon.”

“Ugh, yeah, don’t wanna ride him straight away. He should get used to them on his own first. You wanna reschedule for Tuesday or Thursday, or skip it or…?”

“I was actually wondering if perhaps I could watch you ride one of your reiners?”

“Sure, works for me. I’ll have somebody ready to go then.” Dean opened the arena gate, letting them out. “Don’t worry about paying for that one, though.”

“Oh, no, I’m still taking up your time-”

“No, really, that’ll be on me.” Dean gave him a quick grin and walked away, determined to have the last word on the topic.

A week later, Dean brought his personal reining project into the arena. Cas was sitting on the bleachers next to the arena, looking a bit too clean for the barn. Dean led his palomino over to the fence to say hi.

“Hey, Cas… how’s Wings taking to the shoes?”

“So far, he seems to be doing quite well. I took him for a short walk around the barn, and he’s certainly moving differently, but he doesn’t seem upset.”

“Good, good. Take it easy on him these next couple of days and we’ll see what we’ve got come Saturday.”

“I will.” Cas looked at the horse now. “Who is this?”

“Gabe. He’s a Wimpy bred three year old. I’m hoping to get him shown a bit the end of this year, early next year, and get him sold.”

“Oh, do you own him?”

“Yup. Bobby gave him to me. He’s actually Red’s foal, but she had a lot of issues foaling out and then she rejected him, so I ended up bottle feeding him till he was old enough… Bobby figured I deserved him.” Dean busied himself with tightening his cinch, so not to see the look on Cas’ face. He mounted up, getting comfy. “So, uh… I’m just gonna… train him, I guess.”

“I’ll be watching… I may have questions for you, when you’re done.”

“Fine by me.” Dean turned Gabe away from the fence, starting his usual warm up. No pressure or anything, but dammit Gabe, you’d better be good today, he thought. Thankfully, he was, for the most part. For a three year old, he put in a really good effort, and Dean called it quits a bit early, since things were going so well. After dismounting and patting Gabe on the neck, he finally dared to look back at the bleachers.

Cas was no longer sitting there, but rather leaning eagerly on the fence. Dean dragged Gabe over there, already saying, “He’s still young, still learning, but it was a good work.”

“That was amazing!” Cas said, both his face and his voice very animated; the change from his usual demeanor startled Dean, but he didn’t have time to recover, as Cas immediately launched into a series of specific questions. Dean did his best to answer, but when it became clear that a lot of the answers were something along the lines of “I don’t know, I can just feel it,” Cas stopped.

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to explain it-”

“What are you doing after our lesson on Saturday?” They both spoke at the same time.

“What?” Dean asked, not sure where this was going.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking… I would like to watch you train another horse after our lesson, so I can perhaps get a better idea of how you feel the right thing.”

“Oh.” That’s all. Whew. Dean could handle that. “Yeah, sure. I’m actually heading down to get a mustang on Friday, so I can save our first session for Saturday.”

“If you don’t mind, that would be incredible.”

“Yeah, sure, fine by me.” There was a beat of silence, with them both looking at each other, that suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I’m gonna go put Gabe up so… see you Saturday.”

“Right, of course. Thank you, Dean.”

“Sure, sure…” He led Gabe out of the arena, going through the motions of untacking and grooming him without really thinking about it.

“Boy, where’s your head at?” Bobby asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Dean about jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus, Bobby, where’d you come from?”

“Been talking to you for the past minute, but you’ve just been brushing this colt’s tail over and over again, not payin’ attention to nothin’.”

“Sorry, just… distracted. What’s up?”

“Your check from this month’s lessons.” Bobby  handed him the paper, which Dean glanced at – then took a second, long look.

“This is… this is way more than I’m supposed to get.”

“I know.”

"What gives? Can you guys afford this?”

“Nope.” A spike of guilt stabbed into Dean’s gut, and he made to hand the check back. Bobby put up his hands.

“Ain’t us. Your new client, Novak… huge tip for you this month. Said you’re the best trainer he’s ever seen.” Dean froze, his neck and ears suddenly on fire.

"Oh. Wow.”

“Yup.” Bobby cleared his throat, eyeing Dean with a mixture of concern and gruff annoyance. “Next time, see if he could give us a tip to afford new shelters, since your stupid mustang keeps kicking holes in em.”

“Only in his, and I keep fixing it!” Dean protested to Bobby’s retreating back. He stared back at the check, turning abruptly to keep it away from Gabe (who was bored with all the attention he wasn’t getting and decided it might be food). Did he really do that good of a job? Was Cas just that enamored with his training? What the hell?

Oh this was rapidly turning into a more complicated situation than he cared to deal with, but Dean wasn’t stupid. He could put this money aside and save up for a new saddle. And if Cas was gonna just throw money at him, maybe he could get a really nice one. Bright side, right. He tucked the check into his wallet, put Gabe’s tail up again, and led him back to his stall.

Dean tried to figure out how to give the extra money back to Cas, if he was really going to, and then the trailer got a flat tire on the way to pick up his makeover mustang. And there went both the money, Dean’s plans for a new saddle, and a few hours. He had never been quite so grateful to get back to the barn and pull the trailer over to Purgatory. That’s what he called the isolated shelter in a round pen where Dean started all his mustangs until they were handleable. It was an in between wild and tame, really.

He backed the trailer into the gap, secured the gates, then opened the door and stood back. Monster had exploded out of the trailer and nearly brained himself on the corner of the shelter in one go. This horse took his time, tiptoeing to the edge of the trailer and peering out, snorting nervously. He put one shaky foot on the ground, then leapt out of the trailer and started trotting around in a panic. Dean quickly shut the trailer, closed up the fence, and got himself out of there to watch.

He was big, maybe bigger than Monster. Better built, thankfully. He was a deep bay, with black all up his face. Not a single white hair that Dean could see, but his legs were caked in mud and dust, so there could be something under there. And good lord, this horse had hair. Thick (mud caked) feathers, a long, tangled (and mud caked) tail, mane on both sides of his neck, hanging in matts and dreads (and with mud knots). Dean pulled out his phone and took a picture when the horse stopped to snort anxiously at his water trough.

 _New mustang calling him moose cause he looks like you_ , Dean texted, sending the picture.

 _Haha very funny_ , came the answer from Sam. Another text followed in quick succession:  _no chance of seeing you for at least 3 mos then?_

_Nope too busy maybe after?_

_Yeah._ But as Dean put his phone back, he knew that maybe after probably wouldn’t happen either. Things were weird between them, since Sam went off and got his law degree and the perfect girlfriend, while Dean stayed here, doing what he’d always done.  

Worries for another day. Dean grabbed some grass hay and tossed it into the opening of the shelter, making sure Moose saw him do it. Then he took the trailer back and headed home.

After a slow, but very satisfying lesson with Cas and Wings, Dean grabbed his new rope halter and lead and headed out to see Moose. Cas showed up right as Dean decided to enter the pen, since Moose didn’t seem to care that Dean was watching him through the fence.

“Alright, you wanna watch? Stay away from the fence, and try not to do anything to distract him. If you do, it’s fine, but I’d like this to be easy for him on day one.”

“I understand.” Cas sat down on a nearby log. Again, no pressure… Dean ducked through the fence, watching Moose’s feet and occasionally glancing up at his head. He went through the steps slowly, trying to get Moose’s attention without having to chase him around too much. But he had to establish respect too, so it was careful balancing act between applying the right amount of pressure and releasing that pressure at just the right moment to draw him in.

He lost track of time, just focusing on how Moose thought and reacted and what else he could try. When Moose finally hooked on and took a cautious step towards Dean, ears up, Dean stood still for half a minute, then left the round pen. He checked his phone – only an two hours, not too bad. And then he nearly punched poor Cas in the face.

“Jesus Christ, warn a guy!” he snapped when Cas appeared in front of him.

“My apologies. I did not mean to startle you.” Cas didn’t seem at all insulted by the situation, but was taking it as a cue to wait before asking questions. When Dean didn’t punch him or run away, Cas started asking, and Dean did his best to answer.

“Look, this is not… I’m not like Bobby, I don’t know how to explain it,” Dean finally said. “I just know how to do it.”

“No, I find you quite enlightening. You are very good.”

“Thanks. Um, dude, I was gonna give you back the extra cash from this month, but then the trailer tire, so… just take it off this month’s lessons, yeah?” Dean felt uncomfortable already, but Cas’ confused frown made it worse.

“I did not give you anything extra. I paid more than Bobby and I had originally agreed on, but we had a three hour trail ride two weeks ago, and I wasn’t about to not pay for Wednesday’s lesson.” Dean did quick mental math, and really, that did cover the extra money.

“Oh, well… thanks for paying for them, but you really didn’t have to…”

“I value your time, and I recognize that you have many other demands on your time. I feel it is only fair to compensate you for the extra time you give me.”

“I really don’t mind-”

“I was planning to pay you at least something for allowing me to watch you work with…” Cas interrupted, but trailed off when he realized he didn’t know the horse’s name.

“Moose. And you don’t have to.”

“But-”

“No, seriously, I’m gonna train him whether you watch or not, and I really don’t care if you watch. Look, you wanna compensate me or whatever, take me out to dinner or something.”

“Okay.” What. That was not at all how Dean expected that to go.

“Wait, what, really?”

“I already told you, I greatly value your time. If you are going to be stubborn and refuse to let me pay you, the least I can do is take you out for dinner,” Cas said, as though this was a completely reasonable thing.

“Uh, okay.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Perhaps next Saturday evening? Unless you have other plans…?”

“No, next Saturday’s fine.” Oh shit, what was this even… was he a teenager again? This was just dinner, payment for extra lessons, not a big deal, his own damn idea in the first place.

“We can discuss further on Wednesday or Saturday, as you like,” Cas said, apparently giving Dean permission to say goodbye and run away. Which was pretty much what he did.

Wednesday’s lesson came and went without discussion, though it could be because Dean wasn’t exactly excited about it and was possibly radiating a “don’t talk about it” kind of vibe. Cas seemed okay with that, and he looked really good- Wings looked really good- oh, fuck it all.

In fact, Cas didn’t even bring it up until after Dean had spent a good three hours with Moose on Saturday, culminating in Moose’s first time wearing a halter. Dean pulled it on slowly, held it in place for a minute, then let him go and walked away. Cas had that quizzical face, so Dean prepared his answer as he walked away from the pen.

“I’m not going to leave it on him because he’ll probably hurt himself. I want it to be positive. I want him to be okay with the halter and with being caught. And that’s why I didn’t have a rope on it, just in case he freaked out and it stayed on. I didn’t want him getting tangled up in a rope and going a million steps backwards.”

“That makes perfect sense.” Cas nodded. “So, are you still available for dinner tonight?”

“Yeah.” Please don’t let this be a big deal, why couldn’t he have just suggested burgers or something…

“There’s a diner not far from my house that has excellent food. I was thinking perhaps we could meet there at 7?”

“Make it 8. I’ve got a lesson at 5, then gotta help feed and get home and change and- 8’s better.” Good lord, you’re a grown ass man, stop babbling at him.

“Excellent.” Cas pulled out his wallet, handing Dean a business card with the address neatly printed on the back. The front of the card was actually Cas’ info, which Dean did not find more valuable at this moment, nope. “I’ll see you then.” Cas walked away, and Dean may have watched him go, wondering what the hell was going on.

Dean did his level best not to think about it. He trained his horses, he gave lessons, he helped feed the horses and lock down the barn for the night. He turned his music up dangerously loud and sang along the whole drive home, then put the music on again as he showered. He somehow managed to shut down every stray thought about it during all that time, but there was no avoiding the thoughts as he stood in front of his closet in a towel.

Dress to impress? Dress for a date? Dress to scare him away? Dress professionally? At least he didn’t have too many options to pick from. After a quick internal debate in which he decided that he was being a dumbass about this, he put on a pair of nicer jeans and a non-plaid button down. He went back to the loud music for the drive to the restaurant. Just to be safe.

Castiel was waiting by the front door, looking much nicer and cleaner cut than Dean could ever pretend to be. And yet he gave Dean one of those brilliant smiles just for showing up. They exchanged greetings and headed inside; the hostess took them to a booth off to the side. After pulling out menus, their conversation started with Moose and Wings and the other horses, as that was currently the only common ground they had. But shortly after their server brought Dean his beer and Cas his vanilla milkshake, and they placed their orders, the conversation hit a natural lull. Which was fine, really, Dean thought, sipping his beer.

“You clean up very well,” Cas observed, a small smile playing at his lips. Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“This is about as good as it gets,” he said. That earned an actual smile from Cas.

“That works. You do look very nice, and I mean that.” Dean opened his mouth to disagree, but the words that came out were not quite that.

“I was mostly joking when I suggested dinner before. I didn’t actually think you’d agree to it.” And since he’d gone that far, well… “I just, I don’t know, I guess, why?”

“Because you seem unused to people valuing you, and I would like to express my gratitude in whatever way you’ll let me. I also want to get to know you better, outside of our biweekly lessons, and this seemed like an excellent opportunity,” Cas answered.

“Oh.” Neither possibility had occurred to Dean and – Cas wanted to get to know him? Cas valued him or his time or something? His ears went pink, but maintained his composure. “You could have just said something.”

“Could I have, really? You have dismissed almost every compliment I’ve given you, downplayed my gratitude, attempted to return fair payment… you are either extremely modest, or you actually don’t believe you deserve recognition and praise. I suspected that any attempt to build a friendship would end in some self-depreciating remark.” Dean tried to protest, but a little voice in the back of his head was busy agreeing emphatically. “And now you don’t have an answer to that, so I believe I was right.” Cas leaned forward, his arms on the table, giving Dean a concerned look.

“Okay, fine, guilty as charged,” Dean admitted grudgingly, sinking back into the booth with his arms crossed. “So, you got me here, we’re making friends… that working for you?”

“It is.” Cas sipped his milkshake. “Provided you want to be my friend as well.” The sentence came out calmly, but Dean was well acquainted with Cas’ brave face when he was secretly terrified of whatever it was he’d been asked to do.

“Yeah, I’m up for that.” And there was that amazing smile again. If he could see that every day, Dean figured he’d be a very happy guy. Which is how he found himself telling Cas that, more or less. Well, the actual words were “You have a freaking gorgeous smile,” and once they registered with Dean, he had the profound urge to bang his head on the table, then leave, maybe change his name and move to a different state… but Cas being Cas, he just smiled wider, his ears turning red.

“Thank you,” he said, suddenly looking a bit shy. “Was that… I mean, did you mean…”

“Did I mean that? Yeah. But I’m not…” Dean trailed off because Cas was looking at him funny.

“Was that a subtle, somewhat ineloquent way for you to tell me that you like me?” he asked. Leave it to Cas to put it so bluntly.

“Yeah, I guess… is that, I don’t know, did I just ruin everything?” Please let that be the case, let’s go back to professional relationship only, that would be so much easier…

“No, not at all… truthfully, I rather like you, but I was not sure how that might be received…” Cas took a long drink of the milkshake. “But, if you are interested…”

“What, you asking me out?” Dean asked roughly, drinking half the beer in one go. Maybe he should have gotten something stronger. As he set the glass down, he saw the look on Cas’ face – hope, but apprehension, probably due to the fact that Dean apparently had to drink just at the thought- oh, fuck it all. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go out sometime.”

“Really?” Cas’ face lit up again, of course it did, so Dean half grinned in response.

“Sure.” What the hell. This couldn’t possibly end well, but as long as Cas kept smiling like that, Dean could pretend. They just smiled at each other until their food came, at which point they took turns talking about how great it was and, you know, actually eating the food. Cas, of course, insisted on paying for the meal, and Dean decided not to argue. As they walked out, Dean asked, “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”

“Nothing, actually.”

“Why don’t we do lunch? Meet me at the barn at noon?”

“Certainly.”

“Cool.” Dean tucked his hands in his pockets and started to walk away, but he turned back. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re very welcome,” Cas said, smiling softly. Dean gave him a tight smile and walked away now, before anything else could happen.

Dean didn’t sleep well that night. Cas was constantly on his mind. There was a reason Dean hadn’t been with anybody in any sense of the word for a couple of years. It always ended badly. He just wasn’t cut out for this. Every time he woke up, he reached for the dagger by his bed, panicking. At 5 am, he gave up and made coffee, forced down some eggs and bacon, and drove out to the barn.

Bobby and the morning feed crew seemed surprised to see him an hour early, but he kept them all away with a dark look. Normally, he’d start his Sunday off with Moose, but he was way too edgy to do any such thing. He grabbed Monster’s wraps, threw them on, and mounted up in Monster’s pen. The horse looked longingly at the hay in his feeder, but headed out at Dean’s urging.

They headed into the big field, walking briskly away from the barn, away from people, away from Dean’s worries… He looked down the fenceline, spotted the pole in the distance, and remembered the race. Why couldn’t it be that easy?

Well, who said it couldn’t be, really? He’d been in relationships before. He could do this. And maybe it would be different this time. Maybe he wouldn’t freak out, maybe they’d be able to get past his issues, maybe everything would be fine.

Or it might not. Maybe he’d freak out, make Cas feel like shit, prove that Dean just can’t make people happy, that he’s not worth anybody’s time. Maybe it’d all end in tears and screaming again.

Dean went back and forth for an hour, letting Monster pick their path – smart horse that he was, he walked a big circle back to the gate, and Dean did have other things to do. Even if he didn’t have answers, he was able to pretend he was keeping it together enough to train everybody else.

“Boy, did you take that horse out before his breakfast?” Bobby asked as Dean rode Monster back in.

“Yeah.” Dean hopped off, pulling Monster’s boots off.

“Your head clear now?” Bobby patted Monster on the neck, looking expectantly at Dean.

“Clear enough.”

“I’d hope so. Taking this beast out before he got to eat, no tack, into the big field… least you had the sense to put on his boots. You idjit.” Bobby clasped his shoulder, then walked away. Yeah, idiot… that’s Dean, all over again. He tucked his shoulder under Monster’s throatlatch, leading the horse back to his pen. He didn’t seem at all bothered now that he got to eat – that was the way Dean needed to be. Just rolling with it, getting on with life.

He ended up spending nearly four hours with Moose this time, because he was just off his game enough that hooking Moose on took twice as long as it should have. But once he had that one success, the rest went quite well, and he put the halter on, tied it on, and took it off several times. Moose was a quick learner, thankfully.

Dean had just hung up Moose’s halter, grabbing two more, when Cas showed up. He was slightly overdressed for what Dean had in mind, but. With a grin that was only slightly forced, he handed Cas Monster’s halter.

“What is this for?” Cas asked curiously.

“You’re gonna ride Monster. His tack and boots are in the corner.” Dean started to walk away, but Cas was still standing in bafflement.

“But… who are you riding?”

“You’ll see.” He headed out to a different pen, pulling a big blue roan out. Cas brought Monster over and tacked him in a very confused silence, while Dean threw one of Bobby’s saddles on the roan. Cas’ confusion was surprisingly enjoyable, putting Dean somewhat more at ease. But still, he didn’t explain till they’d both mounted up and Dean led the way down the driveway.

“Bobby picked Blue up at an auction, skinny and abused. I’ve been rehabbing him for a while, but he mostly just needs to get out and have good experiences. Figured we could ride down to town, pick up some lunch.” A smile spread across Cas’ face.

“That sounds amazing. But… what will we do with the horses?”

“Well, we have two options… we can ride through the drive through, or we go to Ash’s. He’s got a hitching post in front and thinks it’s hilarious that Bobby and I use it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not. Honestly, he thinks it’s great.”

“That- Yes, we should go there.”

“I’ll warn you – Ash is kinda special. If he’s even in when we get there.”

“I think I can handle it.” Dean chuckled. “What, you don’t think I can? I’m an adult, I have dealt with a large number of different people over the years.”

“No, no, I believe you,” Dean said innocently. “I’m just looking forward to seeing this.” An old car roared past them a second later, startling Blue into sidestepping into Monster, who just pinned his ears and kept walking on the same path. The car hit the brakes and waited for the two horsemen to catch up.

“What are you doing, boy?” Bobby leaned out of the window, and in the driver’s seat, Ellen waved to Dean and Cas, letting the car cruise along to match the horses’ pace.

“Going out for lunch. Giving Blue a little experience.” Dean grinned down at Bobby, patting his horse on the shoulder. “Cas wanted to come along for the ride, so I let him take Monster.”

“Brave man, riding that beast. Y’know, this idjit trained him. Don’t know if I’d trust him,” Bobby said gruffly, a teasing smile hidden under his beard.

“I have full confidence in Dean’s training abilities,” Cas said, smiling back.

“You boys be careful,” Ellen said, slowly accelerating and leaving them behind.

“Bobby’s still bitter that he couldn’t catch Monster once, like a year and a half ago,” Dean told Cas.

“That must have been funny to watch.”

“I actually wasn’t even here, I was at a clinic…” Dean told Cas the whole story, secondhand as it was, which earned him not only that brilliant grin, but a hearty laugh. Suddenly, Dean was telling Cas story after story, some about his mishaps with horses, some about Bobby, even a few that involved Sam, all to keep that grin and draw out more laughter. Cas just ate up whatever Dean was willing to share.

They arrived at Ash’s after perhaps a thirty minute ride. It was possibly a restaurant, possibly a saloon, probably a bar, but mostly just an authentic wooden building with a big sign on the roof that said “The Roadhouse.” Dean dismounted, took Blue’s bridle off, and tied him to the hitching post. Cas mirrored him, handling Monster rather carefully.

The Roadhouse was strangely unpopulated for lunch time, but that meant Dean and Cas could sit anywhere they wanted – in this case, a table in the corner.

“Dean, what a surprise,” a sickly-sweet voice said; the words were followed by a server, who grinned in an oddly unfriendly manner down at Dean. He returned the sentiment.

“Meg. Always a pleasure.”

“Isn’t it just. And Ash is sleeping off last night’s fun, so I have no choice but to put up with you. Your usual?”

“Damn, and here I thought you just wanted to see my lovely face. Yeah, my usual’s fine.”

"As if.” Meg turned to Cas, an actual smile on her face now. “What can I get you?”

“Um. I’ll have…” Cas paused to look at his menu again. “The house burger. And a water, please.”

“Just as original as Deano here. Figures.” Meg sauntered away.

“She is quite unfriendly,” Cas observed. Dean snorted, putting their menus back in the rack.

“Understatement. I bring out the worst in her.” He grinned innocently.

“What did you do?” Cas asked, suspicious.

“Why would you accuse me of doing something?” Beat. “Okay, fair. I may have taunted and insulted her once upon a time, and Ash may have thought I had a fair point, at which point she punched both of us, so actually, I think we’ve all had our fun and now she’s just bitter.”

“You would.” Cas smiled to himself, shaking his head. And damn it all if that wasn’t just adorable.

“Well, you know how it is…”

“I really don’t.”

“Some people just have it coming.”

“I’m sure.”

“Sarcasm is not a good look for you.”

“Me, sarcastic?” Cas looked genuinely offended, and Dean burst out laughing. When he finally stopped, Cas was looking at him like he had just revealed the answer to life, the universe, and everything in that laugh.

Between that and the earlier story telling, they somehow got into almost a contest to see who could tell the best story and make the other laugh. When Meg came by with their drinks and later, their food, she made a face and left without a single word. Dean might have been bothered, but he was in the middle of a tale about the time Sam and Jo rode one of Ellen’s horses double and Sam got bucked off.

“… kid goes flying through the air, no time to even scream before he hit the ground. I jumped off my horse and sprinted over to him, so now Jo’s dealing with the bucking horse, my horse is loose in the arena, and Sam is crying on the ground.” Dean picked up a fry, using it to gesture about his story. “Turned out he broke his arm, so I picked him up and carried him out to Dad, who had no idea what we were doing… Ellen and Bobby are trying to get my horse and Jo taken care of, so Dad took us to the hospital, and we don’t want to tell him how Sam really got hurt, so I kept making shit up, but Dad saw through it, so finally I fessed up.

“And he got all quiet for a minute, and then he just goes, ‘You should have known better, Dean,’ and doesn’t say another word to me for like, days.” Dean stopped there, suddenly realizing the dark turn what should have been a funny story took. Cas was staring at him, a very sad look on his face, his food untouched. Dean pretended he didn’t see it and took a huge bite out of his burger.

“Dean-”

“Forget it, it’s nothing.”

“No, Dean… look at me.” Cas’ voice was quite firm, so Dean looked up, expecting pity. But instead, Cas just looked sad still. “I’m sorry that you were blamed for something that was not your fault.”

“It was, though. Look out for Sammy, that’s my job, ever since Mom died.” Oh good, he was just gonna lay the tragedy on thick. “It was a long time ago, anyway.”

“But you still carry that guilt,” Cas said gently. “I can see that. You aren’t responsible for everything, Dean.” Truthfully, Dean didn’t have an answer for that, but he still felt like he was.

“It’s fine, really, Cas.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cas insisted. “But it’s all in the past, so all I can do is hope to convince you that it wasn’t your fault then, and you don’t have to keep carrying that burden around.” Dean shrugged noncommittally, putting his attention on his burger instead of that uncomfortableness. He could feel Cas’ eyes on him, even as the other man picked up his burger.

“My older brothers tore our family apart,” Cas said suddenly, startling Dean.

“What?”

“Just… they never really got along, and when they came home after college for a time, they were at each other’s throats the whole while. They had an explosive fight with my father, after which all three went their separate ways, and my sister, mother, and I haven’t been in touch with them for years.” Cas smiled faintly. “I just… didn’t want you thinking that you were the only one with family issues.”

“Oh. I’m… well, thanks for that. And… I’m sorry, man.” Their eyes met, and for a moment, it seemed like maybe they actually saw each other as they really were, instead of the faces they each showed to the world every day. And then the moment passed, and they both looked back down at their food.

After paying Meg – and having a discussion about tipping (Cas: “Dean, just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean you can undertip her. She provided acceptable service.” Dean: “But she’s such a bitch.” Cas: “Did she spit in your food?” Dean: “Probably…” Cas: “ _Dean_.” At which point Dean tipped 15%.) – they went and collected the horses, who were hanging out very patiently. A few minutes into the ride back, Dean’s phone rang.

“What’s up?” he said to answer it. The voice on the other end of the line made Dean frown. “Wait, what? Come again, Bobby?” The voice went on, and Dean’s frown deepened, earning a sympathetic and confused frown from Cas. “Be there ASAP.” Dean put the phone back in his pocket and gathered up Blue’s reins.

“What is it?” Cas asked.

“There’s a fence down in the yearling pasture, and they all got into the hay field behind. Bobby needs help rounding them up and bringing them in. I’m going to run back there and help, but Monster’ll get you back fine on his own.” Dean steered Blue off the shoulder of the road and onto the grass alongside, then urged him to a trot, then a lope.

“I’ll come help,” Cas said, startling Dean. Monster was right on Blue’s tail (and rather pissed off about being second, but Cas had him very well under control). They loped up to the driveway, at which point Dean dropped Blue down to a fast trot to cross the road and head up the driveway, with Cas and Monster hot on their heels. As they trotted past the barn and towards the field, they came across Jo, who was cinching up a big bay mare.

“Jo! Grab me a rope, will you?” Dean called, halting Blue. Cas stopped next to him, keeping the slightly irritable Monster a safe distance away. Jo did a double take.

“What’s he doing on Monster?” she replied, jogging into the tack room. She emerged with a bridle and two ropes, one of which she brought over to Dean.

“We were out for lunch, and now I can’t get him off the horse,” Dean joked. “See you out there.” He held the rope against his thigh, cueing Blue up and loping towards the back field. Cas smiled at Jo and followed suit. They stopped at the gate to the yearling pasture, where Dean and Blue navigated it easily, careful to shut it behind them.

The downed fence in the back was visible even from here, and they took off towards it. In the hay field, the yearlings were trotting around nervously, while Bobby sat on a big buckskin gelding, eyeing them grumpily. Dean and Cas loped over to him.

“Jo coming?” Bobby asked roughly.

“Yup, should be here any minute,” Dean answered. Every thirty seconds, the horses would stop and nibble at the tall grass, then one of them would get spooked and the whole herd would set off nervously again.

“Ellen’s getting the fencing supplies together. She’ll take the mule up and be ready to fix it as soon as we can push them all through.”

“Gotcha.” Jo loped up, bringing the bay to a beautiful stop on Bobby’s other side.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” Bobby gestured to the herd as he talked. “Dean and Castiel, you push them from behind. Not too fast, walking’s fine if they will. Jo, you stay up on their left, guide em forward and don’t let the leaders get out. Buck and I will take the right, keep em in line. Don’t rope anybody if you don’t have to, but if the herd scatters, Jo, Dean, get whoever you can, but try for the big dun, the bay with the hind sock, and the red roan. They’re the leaders and troublemakers, so if anybody’s gonna start shit, it’ll be them.

“Alright, let’s do it.” Bobby trotted off to the right, and Jo headed left. Cas and Dean hung back, slowly approaching the herd from behind.

“What do we do to make them move?” Cas asked, a bit nervous.

“It’s just like lunging, just all of them at once. Direct your energy and make em go where you want.” Cas frowned thoughtfully, but willingly split Monster a few yards from Blue. Bobby and Jo got where they wanted, and the whole herd seemed nervous but not panicky, so Dean got started. He slapped the rope against his thigh, clicking and yelling at the horses to “git on up.” The yearlings jumped forward, moving away from Dean but staying between Jo and Bobby, just as planned. They loped nervously, but Dean only trotted Blue after them, encouraging them whenever the back of the herd thought about stopping.

Cas mostly just mirrored Dean’s movements, but when he saw how well it was working, he tried a few noises of his own next time the herd tried to stop. Surprisingly, they moved out exactly like he wanted. The yearlings let the four horsepeople move them back through the gap in the fence and across the pasture, so Ellen could pull the mule up and work on the fence. Bobby stopped, dismounted, and groundtied Buck to help her, but Jo, Cas, and Dean kept moving the horses, though not so urgently.

They stopped once the yearlings had been pushed down to the front corner by the hay, so no one would get any ideas about trying to go through the hole while Bobby and Ellen fixed it. Dean watched the big dun pick a fight with the bay warmblood and get his ass handed to him. Nearby, Jo and Cas watched the horses – and Dean – together.

“So, Castiel, huh? I’ve seen you around… Jo Harvelle,” she said, offering him a hand.

“Castiel Novak. Dean is training my horse and I.”

“Gathered that. He clearly likes you, trusts you a lot, letting you ride Monster.” The thought hadn’t occurred to Cas, and his face lit up.

“Really?”

“Yup. Y’know, I’ve been training almost as long as he has, and I had to beg him forever to ride that horse. I regretted it cause he runs weird, but.” Jo shrugged.

“He does have an interesting gait,” Cas agreed.

“Don’t get me wrong, good horse. Dean really turned him around. But that’s no hunter.”

“No, he certainly is not. He is not a reiner either, but he is a very nice horse.” Cas patted Monster’s shoulder affectionately.

“So, you and Dean, then. Friends?”

“Indeed.” Cas smiled. Jo grinned knowingly, leaning forward to rest her forearms on the saddle horn.

“Had a lunch date?” she asked, while Cas was preoccupied watching Dean play with the rope.

“Yes- wait, what?” Cas looked back at her, half panicked. She laughed.

“Dude, I grew up with Dean. I know what’s going on.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, that’s right. But look,” she said, dropping her voice and suddenly all business. Cas gave her his full, serious attention. “He’s had some really rocky relationships, and his head’s kind of all twisted around and messed up, so you better be good to him. Or I will throw you down, tie you like a calf, and cut your nuts off.” Jo leaned back again. “I have years and years of practice doing that.”

“Heard and understood,” Cas said solemnly, his face a bit pale. In the distance, Bobby whistled; all three horsepeople looked back to see that he and Ellen had put up a new top wire and they were good to go. Dean spun Blue around and trotted over to Jo and Cas.

“What kind of trouble were you getting up to just now?” he asked, shoving Jo as she opened the gate. She stayed in her saddle, shoving him back.

“Nothin’ you need to know about, Winchester. You and your boyfriend better go put those horses up so you can get to your afternoon lessons,” she said, suddenly spurring her mount up as soon as the gate shut.

“Uh,” Dean said, looking slightly panicked.

“Could I call you my boyfriend?” Cas asked quietly. “It’s perfectly fine if not, I’m simply wondering.”

“Um. Yeah, I guess? Just not… in public all the time?” Dean rushed through the sentence, his ears burning. God, Cas was going to hate him, he couldn’t even be open about this whatever it was with other people-

“I understand. I think Jo is an exception, since she obviously caught on by herself,” Cas said, not bothered at all.

“Yeah, Jo’s an exception to most things,” Dean agreed. They stuck to small talk as they untacked the horses, but as they led them back to their pens, Cas leaned over and snuck a quick kiss on Dean’s cheek.

“Thank you for lunch today. And though it did not end as expected, I had a wonderful time.” He smiled and walked away, like he knew Dean wasn’t ready to react. Which he wasn’t, other than to stare after Cas for a minute, cheeks burning. Blue nudged his hip impatiently, waking Dean up out of his thoughts. Oh man, he was in so much trouble.

He went out with Cas again on Wednesday, after their lesson, and somehow they avoided any touchy subjects. It was easy to relax around Cas, and Dean still loved making him smile and just basking in that glow. And when Cas kissed him goodnight, this time Dean actually responded. Saturday night found them in the diner, eating pie (Dean’s favorite) and making out.

The following Wednesday, after a really stellar lesson, Cas invited Dean to come over for dinner and a movie night. Dean agreed – of course he agreed, everything was going so well. It wasn’t until sometime Thursday morning that he properly thought about it and started panicking. He needed to make a phone call.

“Lafitte Horseshoeing.”

“It’s Dean, man. Do you not know how to read the name on the screen?”

“Sorry, brother, I was sorting nails. What do you need?”

“Got any time for me tomorrow afternoon?”

“How much time we talking?”

“I got this new mustang. I’ve been handling his feet, but you know how they are first time. I’d wait longer, but he keeps eating shit when we do ground work, and either he’s just super uncoordinated or he needs his feet trimmed that bad, and I’m hoping it’s just the second thing.” Just hearing Benny’s southern drawl on the other end of the line was relaxing, honestly.

“I hear you, brother. I can be there at three, give you the whole evening if it takes that long, but you owe me a drink after.”

“Sure thing, Benny. Thanks, man.”

“Anytime, Dean. I’ll see you then.”

Benny pulled his truck up to Purgatory the next afternoon. He and Dean exchanged a very brotherly man-hug before Benny opened the bed and started pulling out his tools. Moose was watching Benny warily from the other side of the pen, but he allowed Dean to catch him and lead him to the center.

The men worked in relative silence, Benny occasionally saying “Easy, brother,” in his quiet drawl to convince Moose not to panic, while Dean stroked his face and neck and talked nonsense to keep him calm. They didn’t push him past what he was willing to do at any given moment, so it took them the better part of three hours to get him fully trimmed.

Benny finally put Moose’s last foot down at stepped back next to Dean. Dean clucked and asked Moose to move out, sending the very confused horse around him in a circle. Dean clicked again, and Moose moved up into a trot. He threw a few little hops and kicks, clearly not sure what happened to his feet, then settled down and moved out nicely. Dean let out a relieved sigh, asked him to stop and disengage, then took his halter off and let him be.

“I think that fixed it. I was seriously trying to figure out how to teach him proper collection when he hasn’t even seen a saddle, let alone worn one.” Benny chuckled and packed up his tools.

“You’d have figured something out, brother. Meet you at the Roadhouse?”

“Yeah, let me just put this up.” He held up Moose’s halter and threw a short wave at Benny as he climbed into his truck. Dean half jogged to the tack room, hung up the halter, and shut down the barn behind him. Then into his car and on the road, finally. Benny was already at the Roadhouse, a beer on the bar in front of him; Dean sat down next to him, and Ash had a beer in front of him before he could say anything.

“Thanks, Ash,” Dean said with a grin.

“No problem, man. You guys want your usual dinners?”

“That’d be great.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” Ash disappeared, and Benny shook his head.

“I wonder sometimes how he even keeps this place together.”

“I’m not questioning it.”

“Fair. So. What’s got you so tense, brother?” Trust Benny to read right down to his core. Dean took a good, long drink of the beer, both for courage and to buy himself time to put his thoughts together.

“I don’t remember how much I’ve told you about my history of relationships…”

“Only what you wanted to, but it’s enough to go on.”

“Well.” Oh, where to start? With Cas? Before Cas? With his fears now? He was silent long enough that Benny spoke up for him.

“You seeing someone now?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re afraid it’s gonna end how your other relationships ended.”

“Yup.”

“Brother, you’re a dumbass.” Benny drank his beer, while Dean stared at him.

“Wow, that helped. Thanks.”

“Just because things didn’t work out before doesn’t mean this one won’t. Sometimes things ain’t meant to be, but when they are, they’ll sort out. You like this person?”

“Yeah, I really do.” Dean’s ears went pink and he looked down into his glass.

“And I’m assuming they like you too, particularly seeing as there’s nothing not to like.” Benny smiled at Dean and earned a little one in return. “So what’re you really worrying about?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“I got time. Ash probably hasn’t even told anybody about our food.”

“God, Benny, I don’t even know…” Dean sighed and rubbed his face. “It’s… every time I’m in a relationship, they want something that I kinda want but I can’t give it to them, and it… it kills me. Kills the relationship. Every time.”

“And you’re thinking-”

“Cas is gonna want it, and I’m not going to be able to give it right, and he’s gonna dump me and probably leave the barn and I don’t want any of that but I don’t know how to stop this.”

“You are getting too far ahead of yourself, brother. One step at a time. You gotta talk to this Cas, see what he actually wants, and work through it together.” He clapped one big, calloused hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t assume the worst before you even give the man a chance – or give yourself a chance. You want this relationship to work?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Then you need to make it work, not bail cause it looks scary. Dean, you faced a thousand pound wild mustang head on, but you can’t handle a relationship with another man?” Benny smiled and shook his head. “You got some issues, brother.”

“Understatement,” Dean agreed. That was enough about him, so he asked after Andrea (Benny’s wife) and heard all about their life until their food came. Thankfully, the rest of the night went by very pleasantly, without mention of Dean’s serious issues.

“You take care of yourself, brother,” Benny said as they headed out to their cars. “And be smart. Talk to Cas. Make it work.”

“I will. Thanks, Benny.” As Dean drove home, he thought about what ‘make it work’ really meant. He was pretty sure it involved talking about feelings and drawing boundaries and other touchy-feely not-Dean things. But he also knew what make it work would ultimately mean. And he really did want to make this work.

Well, he had about twenty-four hours to mentally prepare himself for this. After all, he was spending the night at Cas’ tomorrow. No better time or place. And he could totally do this, and everything was going to be fine.

Dean may have spent a little bit more time than usual watching Cas ride, rather than watching Cas and Wings together. All part of the mental preparation – lots and lots of admiration of exactly how sexy his boyfriend really was (what a weird thought, maybe he shouldn’t put words to it). Cas didn’t seem to mind – or even notice – and sat patiently through Dean working with Moose.

Dean hung up Moose’s halter and was in the middle of explaining to Cas why he liked stiff rope halters and a rope with a leather popper when Cas kissed him seemingly out of nowhere. They ended up in a full on make-out, groping session in the corner of the tack room for ten minutes before either of them could even think about stopping. Cas was the one to walk away, smiling in that teasingly attractive way.

“See you tonight?” He left it as a question, giving Dean one chance to back out.

“Yeah, looking forward to it.”

After a long day at the barn, a quick shower, and a peptalk in his bathroom mirror, Dean headed over to Cas’ apartment. It was nice, modern, relatively un-personalized, but it smelled like heaven. After letting Dean in, Cas went straight back to the kitchen.

“Didn’t know that you cooked,” Dean commented, leaning on the wall in the doorway.

“I don’t often have reason to, but I like to. However, I’m not much of a baker, so I went to the diner and got a pie for desert,” Cas replied, taking a quick moment to point to the pie on the counter. Dean’s heart did a little flip at the thoughtful gesture, but at the same time, panic gnawed at his gut. He willfully ignored it, focusing on the positives. Like Cas getting him pie. Cas cooking. Cas in general.

Turned out, Cas was one hell of a good cook. And Cas didn’t blink twice about Dean drinking a whole beer with dinner – because that’s a totally normal thing to do and has nothing to do with anything else whatsoever. Granted, it really didn’t do a whole lot anyway, not with his tolerance, but Dean could pretend, right?

They ended up in Cas’ bedroom for a Star Wars marathon. The debate over movies came first, whereupon it was agreed that they should watch something they wouldn’t feel bad about not actually watching, if it came to that, and there’s no substitute for the classics. That was followed by the agreement that should they end up not watching the movies, or falling asleep during the movies, the bed would be a hell of a lot comfier. Cas’ bedroom actually looked somewhat lived in, unlike the living room, which was even cozier.

Somewhere in the middle of A New Hope, they started cuddling. Which was interrupted for pie with The Empire Strikes Back. Then the pie was gone, the cuddling resumed, and Return of the Jedi was on. Somewhere during that, the cuddling turned into lazy kisses, which turned into making out, which led to groping and suddenly Cas was in Dean’s lap.

At least they were both on the same page, even if it was taking everything Dean had to not panic and run out of the room right now. Instead, he focused on the ongoing kiss while he slid his hands under Cas’ shirt, tugging it up his body. Cas pulled away, getting half tangled up in the shirt as he tried to get out of it. With a sheepish grin, he grabbed at Dean’s shirt, returning the favor. Fortunately, Dean didn’t have to make the next move, as Cas kissed him again, his hands framing Dean’s face.

Moment of truth, of sorts. Dean ran his hands over Cas’ chest, along his back, while mentally talking himself up to the next step. Undo his jeans. It’s not that hard. Just get your hands down there and do it.

“Dean?” Why was Cas not kissing him anymore? In fact, why was Cas holding his hands and looking at him with so much concern?

“What?” Dean tried to play innocent.

“Your hands are shaking. Are you okay?” Oh, for the love of- Now that Cas had his hands, they were calming down, but they probably had been shaking like leaves a few seconds ago. Play it cool, Dean.

“It’s just been a while,” he said, and it was true, though not the exact reason. Of course, Cas had that inscrutable look that told Dean he didn’t fully buy it.

“That’s alright. I don’t want to rush anything.” Cas leaned in to kiss him, soft and sweet. And then pulled away again, still holding Dean’s hands. “Actually, can we talk first?” Dean groaned, and he hoped it sounded like sexual frustration instead of self-loathing, desperation, and the knowledge that talking about it was going to lead to not actually being able to follow through.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered anyway. Cas slid out of his lap, released one hand, and settled in next to him.

“I want you to understand where I’m coming from. I- sex doesn’t mean quite the same thing to me that it might to you. You see, I’m asexual. That means I don’t experience sexual attraction.” While he talked, Cas stared down at Dean’s hand, running his fingertips over the callouses and scars. “Unlike the majority of asexuals, I am quite indifferent to sex, rather than repulsed. It certainly can be pleasurable, and I do enjoy bringing my partner pleasure, if they so desire. But I don’t seek it out for myself.

“I wanted you to understand that, because I suspect my approach to sex will be different from yours. Don’t mistake me – I am perfectly okay with having sex. I am just equally okay not having sex. I like you romantically and aesthetically and sensually, but not sexually, and I care about you a great deal. I don’t want this to be a point of contention between us, which is why I wanted to bring it up.” Cas looked up now, searching Dean’s face for a reaction.

Dean, however, was stunned and silent. Okay not having sex? That was an option? They could stay together, maybe fall in love, have a life together, and never have to have sex?

“Dean?”

“Um. I.” The panic that had been in his gut pretty much all day was now tangled up in confusion. “I. I think I get it? I. Um. What… what was the thing you said most asexuals are?”

“Sex-repulsed. Wherein sex, the thought of, or some other aspect of it causes aversion or repulsion, possibly as severe as anxiety and panic attacks,” Cas said, suddenly holding Dean’s hand tight.

“Oh.” Dean could barely breathe. There was a word for that. “Is that… fixable?”

“I suppose it could be, theoretically, but I don’t know that anyone truly has. Most people just work with it. Why?” Cas was staring at him now, rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of Dean’s hand.

“I… think I might be- but I’m not asexual, I don’t think, so I’m just… broken.”

“No.” Cas’ voice was suddenly harsh, very firm. “You are not broken. Allosexuals- that is, non-asexuals- don’t tend to talk about sex-repulsion, and I doubt it is particularly common, but it is certainly possible, and there is nothing wrong with that. If you are sex-repulsed, that is perfectly fine. Not only does it not change how I feel about you in the slightest, but it is completely okay.”

“Really?” Dean let out a breathless, bitter laugh. “Cause all my life, I’ve felt like I’m completely fucked up. It’s like, I know that I want to have sex with people, but I freak out every time I actually do, and it never gets any better.”

“Dean.” Cas looked at him, his expression that of someone who had just watched their puppy get kicked, and his tone soft and gentle. “There is nothing wrong with you. I can only imagine how terrible that must have been for you. But, if I can ask… being sex-repulsed, why did you want to initiate sex with me?”

“Because that’s what people do in relationships! They have sex, and it’s supposed to be good and happy, not make me want to run screaming and feel like shit every time. But I figured you wanted it, and I wanted this to work, so I spent all day talking myself up, and now we’re here, and we stopped and if we’re gonna have sex, I’m going to need to be like seriously hammered now because I can’t work up to it again-”

“Absolutely not,” Cas interrupted, tugging on Dean’s arm and pulling him over, so Dean ended up against Cas’ shoulder. “If you don’t want sex, then I don’t want sex. I told you, I don’t care one way or the other. What I want is for you to be happy and comfortable. Sex clearly does not do that for you, and in fact makes you anxious and shaky, and I never want to do that to you.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I mean it.”

“But-”

“We can talk about how harmful compulsory sexuality has been to you later. Right now, I want to help you calm down and stop shaking. We are not having sex. Not tonight, not until you are comfortable with it, if you ever are. We can go the rest of our lives without once having sex, and that will be more than satisfactory for me. Understand?”

“Sort of…” Dean took a deep breath and gave in, curling into Cas’ side. “You really mean that?”

“I do.”

“Every other relationship I’ve ever had ended because I freaked out every time we had sex.”

“That won’t happen, because we won’t do anything that makes you freak out. Sex is not the smallest bit important to me.”

“I didn’t have any idea anybody would think like that.”

“I’m smarter than most people.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

**Epilogue**

“Dean! What’s up?”

“Hey, Sammy, any chance you and Jess wanted to fly out for Christmas?”

“Um… we’ll have to see if we can get time off, but probably. Any particular reason, or…”

“What, I need a reason to see my little brother?”

“I’m taller than you.”

“Still my little brother.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, um… well, I miss you, you giant asshole, and it’s the holidays, and Cas’ family sure as hell isn’t happening, and I figured, we’ve got stuff to celebrate, so-”

“Whoa, back up, Dean. Who’s Cas?”

“… my partner. We’ve been together since the spring. He moved in with me a month ago.”

“That’s great, Dean.”

“It actually is. And this time, it’s actually a good relationship. It’s going to work out. Really.”

“I mean, the fact that you want me to meet the guy kind of said that.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re really convincing me. So, celebrating? I thought you hated Christmas.”

“I do. But Cas doesn’t, and he’s cooking, and we both just had big wins recently… Cas and his horse Wings got some ribbons at Arab Nationals in October, and Gabe and I did well at the NRHA futurity.”

“Hey, congrats! Gabe… was that the orphan foal from three years ago?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Awesome! Yeah, hey, Jess is looking into flights… can we stay in my room, or do you want us to get a hotel?”

“No, you stay with us. And we’ll have Bobby and Ellen and Jo over. It’ll be good.”

“Yeah, it will be. Hey, let me call my boss, and I’ll call back once we get plans?”

“Awesome.”

“Hey. After this… can we not be strangers anymore?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Great. Talk to you soon.” Dean hung up the phone before Sam could get too sappy on him.

“I told you that would go well,” Cas said, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and leaning against his back.

“Yeah, you’re so smart.”

“I am aware. Does Sam eat pie like you do? Because we may need to order our pies in advance if that is the case.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the often differently worded, attributed to many people quote "There is nothing so good for the inside of a man as the outside of a horse." I knew I wanted to write something for ace/aro august, and this is what happened.   
> Dean's training style is based on the way I was trained to train (haha). Coincidentally, my trainer was also named Bobbie.


End file.
